Forgotten Vows
by MistressofHello
Summary: Its the Golden Trio's final year. Voldemort has been defeated. He still has a last gift for Hermione though. She dreams of a dark man, a crowd of people, and she's wearing white.     HG/SS while she's still a student. She will be over age.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related, nor am I making any money from this. It all belongs to the literary goddess J.K. Rowling.

AN: So I'm finally tired of asking people in real life to beta for me. If anyone is interested please let me know. I'd really, really appreciate it. I'm tired of all my grammatical errors

2: Anyway, H: means its Hermione's perspective, and S: means its Severus's.

Untitled

H:

She was looking at herself wearing a white dress. The sleeves were flowing out from her elbows. The skirt glared out from her hips. A golden chain was fastened around her hips. At every hem line there was gold trim. Her hair was split in half with the top half braided down the rest. A golden circlet was resting on top. A small pendant of a snake wrapped around a lioness was attached to the fine chain around her neck.

Shortly after she noticed her feet were bare she heard her mother calling for her. She walked out of a beige tent she hadn't known she was in. She found herself in front of a strip of white across an expanse of green. People were sitting in chairs on either side of the white strip some ways up. Beyond them was an older man with a long beard.

She felt someone grab her arm. Looking over she say her father. He gave her a small smile and gestured towards the crowd. Together they started walking down the white strip.

S:

He was regretting having his hair back. His facial mask of indifference was close to failing. He wanted desperately to tug at the neck of his black robes. Instead he focused on the cuff links on his robes. If they hadn't been a gift from Albus he never would worn them. They had no place on robes. Although he supposed a lioness surrounded a snake was fitting.

He looked out at the crowd before him. He was still wondering why so many people had wanted to witness this. It just had to be the novelty of him with _her._ She claimed they were all dear to her. Somehow Albus had talked him into allowing this. There was a lot of talk about making concessions and compromise. He remembered that much. He sent a small glare at the man.

Albus stood up a little straighter when music started. He looked out over the crown to see her walking town that strip of white. He stopped finding things to grumble about right then.

H:

She sat up and shook her head to clear it. She had spent all summer hoping that once she was back at the castle with the man the dreams would stop. Climbing out of the bed she laughed at herself. She had been having this dream since June.

She had known it was a vain hope. Even the week of dreamless sleep potion had done nothing to stem them. Regardless f the humor she found it in today, she was starting to worry. According to all her research, if what she was seeing at night was just a regular dream the potion should have stopped it.

She padded across the horribly Gryffindor themed room. Pulling her clothes out of the scarlet dresser she kept thinking throughout her morning routine.

By the time Hermione's was at breakfast she still hadn't figured out what could be prolonging these dreams. She had trusted the apothecary that the potion came from. It underwent annual Ministry review.

Harry and Ron blearily joined her when she was nearly down with her plate. After they finished filling their own Professor Mcgonnagal handed out their schedules. It just happened that she would be seeing the "man of her dreams" first thing that day.

S:

Severus had been dreading this for several days now. She was in the first class of the first day. Mere hours after he had dreamed of her.

Its not like she was anything remarkable in real life. Her long frizzy hair was nearly eating its clip. The hands on the stirring rod were ink stained. Her robes were open and exposing skin flushed from heat and still tanned from a summer abroad. He brown eyes were flitting back and forth between the chalkboard and her potion.

Whenever h e didn't keep a tight reign on himself, he kept picturing her in that dress walking towards him. He had given up revising his course schedule while the class worked. He also hadn't bothered checking over her shoulder, as he'd down with the rest of the class. He didn't think he could keep his calm if he had.

When she got to the simmering stage, instead of pulling out prep work for other classes, she stared off into space. He had finally caught the studious Ms. Granger daydreaming in his class. Not willing to resist this particular temptation he cast a silent ligilemency.

He didn't see her reliving summer memories as he had expected. He saw himself, poised above her. She looked nervously resigned, but he could heel her desire. He pulled out of her mind right as he watched himself start moving.

He stared at the witch. It appeared she hadn't been aware of his intrusion. She hadn't relived the memory with him either. The fact that it was an actual memory and not the memory of a fantasy or something similar disturbed him. He had been intimate with a student. That alone was a horrible thing to consider. But why didn't he remember it?

The only conclusion he could draw without any more information was that it was a tampered or planted memory. There were very few people in Britain that could get into the young witch's mind and fool him. That made falsification unlikely, but still possible. He needed more to go on.

H:

"Ms. Granger, stay after class. Alone," Professor Snape ordered.

She looked up at him startled. She had done nothing all class but work on her potion. There was no arguing with the professor though. When the class ended she bottled her potions, set in on his desk, packed her bag, and sat down to wait.

"That wasn't a very nice trick Ms. Granger. Who put you up to it?" he demanded.

"Sir?" she questioned?

"I saw that little memory! It was right on top for anyone to see! Explain yourself!" he shouted from behind his desk.

Shocked, she took a minute to run through all her recent memories. She wanted to know which one was angering him. The image of him at the end of that white strip came to mind.

"It was a dream sir," she protested quickly.

"It most certainly was not," he insisted.

"Her hair finally escaped the clip as she stood up furiously. "Then we should inform the Headmaster of our nuptials."

"Nuptials? You have that dream as well, " he challenged. "They might be connected."

"Professor?" she ventured.

"Detention tonight Ms. Granger, after dinner. We have much to discuss apparently," he ordered.

She nodded her assent. Feeling very confused she retrieved her bag and left.


End file.
